


Modern Day Sleeping Beauty

by BloodyAbattoir



Series: Your Reality Is A Nightmare [25]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drug Use, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 05:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: You were so tired, and nothing seemed to help.





	Modern Day Sleeping Beauty

You were tired. No, make that, you were very, very tired. You hadn't felt this tired in your entire life, at least that you could remember. Really, you'd remember feeling this tired if you'd ever felt it before. It sank deep into your bones, your muscles, you tendons, and refused to be moved. It hung over your mind, sapping it of all energy. It clouded and muddied your emotions, causing a deep depression that couldn't be cured or shifted in the least.

Yes, life has made you tired.

You were tired of your sad little flat to which nary a single soul ever visited or called. You were tired of your job, a most annoying thing where your boss micro-managed you and your co-workers barely had the decency to wait until your back was fully turned in order to laugh at you. You were tired of your family, your alcoholic father, your senile grandmother, your distant mother, your siblings who only ever seemed to call upon you when they needed something. You were tired of hearing of the plight of the world. Tired of dealing with morons. Tired of taxes. Tired of hearing the government make stupid choice after foolish decision. Tired of seemingly never getting ahead in life. Tired of this. Tired of that. Tired of nearly everything. Tired, tired, tired.

Sleep doesn't seem to cure it, not that you sleep soundly to begin with. Maybe that's the problem, you think. Sleeping soundly relieves exhaustion. If a person sleeps fitfully, they don't quite gain the same benefits of sleep. You think you've found the solution. You need more sleep, and of a higher quality that you can create of your own efforts.

So you begin to seek out sleeping pills.

Within a month or three, you're quite addicted to them. You can no longer sleep on your own without them. However, you begin to find that after you wake from this chemical slumber, the edge is taken off your bone-deep exhaustion. Within 6 months, you'd managed to bite back this tired feeling bit by bit, but you'd not yet managed to entirely eradicate it. You thought maybe if you upped the dosage, the tired feeling would go away quicker.

So you did.

You began to sleep through days at a time, and during the times that you were awake, you shuffled around like the walking dead. Voicemails piled up on your recording machine, stacks of unanswered mail sat upon the table, obscuring the top from view, and piles of laundry and dishes began to crop up in every corner. Food began to rot in the fridge, and the lights, gas, and water were turned off from your not paying the bills. You lost your job from not showing up so frequently, and an eviction notice was pasted to the front of your flat's door.

One day shortly after, you didn't wake up.

When the owners of the flat came to make sure that everything was in order for the next tenant, they found you, laying in bed, sinking into it, nearly a part of it, translucent skin and protruding bones, deep circles beneath your eyes. Your home reeks of rot, and it would've been impossible for any normal person to have slept through, let alone not noticed. Your landlady barely makes it to the toilet before she heaves and vomits up her breakfast from the sheer stench. After she is done being sick, she returns to your bedside, shaking you, calling your name, ringing for emergency services. None of it works, none of it does any good.

You had fallen into an eternal sleep, and nothing could wake you up.


End file.
